


Broken

by FragmentedStars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Back to School, Chocolate Frog Cards, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Harry is Clueless, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Professors, M/M, Rating May Change, Rivals, Slow Build, Tags May Change, draco is angsty, house pride, or lack thereof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:02:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9623321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FragmentedStars/pseuds/FragmentedStars
Summary: The War destroyed many things, and the Wizarding world is dealing with the fallout of a fight that they had never wanted. Harry has filled his time with helping to rebuild, trying to distract himself from the dark turns his mind takes when unoccupied, until he is given a new purpose thanks to Headmistress McGonagall: He will be returning to Hogwarts to not only learn but teach. The only catch: He has to watch over Draco Malfoy.





	

It was one of those cold, wet, miserable days which barred all living creatures from the outdoors, threatening them with wet feet and runny noses and the kind of chill that seeped through to one’s very bones. It was no surprise, then, that the streets of Diagon Alley were deserted; shop windows dark and interrupted only by luminous signs pronouncing them to be closed, the only noise that of the falling rain and scurrying creatures running to find shelter. It was late August, and evidence of school shopping was everywhere, from sale signs to displays of new robes to flashy new notebooks that would have made a certain brunette swoon.    

                Suddenly, a sharp _Crack!_ interrupted the near silence and a lone figure appeared, pulling his hood over his white blonde hair. Without pause he immediately began walking at a brisk pace, his footsteps echoing and his dark cloak billowing behind him. Glancing once over his shoulder he disappeared down an alley way between a book shop and an ice cream parlor, and suddenly it was as if he had never been there at all. Everything lapsed back into silence. The rain continued to fall.

                But he had been there.

                And that was what mattered.

 -            

                “Merlin’s beard, this is bloody ridiculous! I don’t care what McGonagall and Kingsley say, you are not going through with this, Harry. It’s the worst kind of punishment; it’s like Filch came up with it! And he wants to hang people from the ceiling!”

                Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, knowing nothing he said would get Ron off of his case. He was much too opinionated on the subject at hand to be in any state of mind that would make talking to him anything other than a waste of time and effort.

                “Look, I’m not all that happy about it either. But they both think it’s a good idea and I have to admit, I can sort of see why. Besides, it’s not like I can go against a direct order from my boss-to-be and the headmistress of Hogwarts; that would be downright suicidal.”

                “But-“

                “And,” Harry interjected, a smile pulling at his lips, “If I’m not mistaken, don’t you have a wedding to plan? You don’t have time to worry about me. Plus it will keep me occupied while you’re… otherwise _engaged,”_ he finished with a wink.

                Ron instantly turned red and a goofy grin replaced his scowl. He had, a little over a month before, proposed to Hermione who had (very graciously, in his and Harry’s opinions) said yes. True they had been dating for less than half a year but in reality the time of the relationship didn’t matter, as they had a bond much deeper than some who had been married for decades. Hermione being Hermione, she had a full guest list and appointments at several venues set up the very next day. And that had pretty much set the pace for the wedding planning. Every day there was someone to meet or somewhere to go or some detail to iron out, and the couple was constantly on the go. Come to think of it, Harry mused, this was the first time since then that he had gotten a spare moment alone with Ron.

                “I love that woman,” Ron sighed, “I really do. But Harry, don’t try and side track me. This is serious! You’re eighteen for Merlin’s sake, you can’t be going to school. You’re supposed to be training for a job and moving on with your life, like we are!”

                “I haven’t decided yet, ok? I’m going to think about it. And you, sir, need to get going. Aren’t you two meeting a florist in a half an hour?”

                “Aaw, hell, you’re right! If the school thing doesn’t work out, you can always be my secretary. Later, mate,” Ron cried then, with a turn and a _Crack!_ disappeared, leaving Harry alone in Grimmauld Place. He looked down at the letter on his table, one he had seen many times before. The crisp parchment, neat writing, the separate page of books and reminders.

But this one was so very different from all the others.

He picked it up and read it for what must have been the hundredth time that day.

_Dear Mister Potter,_

_I would like to inform you that due to the circumstances of your last year of education, it has been thought by the Minister of Magic and myself that it would be highly beneficial to you and your future if you return and complete your seventh and final year at Hogwarts._

_We will expect you to board the train as per usual on the first of September, and to carry out the year as you would any other._

_Accommodations will be made to ensure your utmost comfort, which will be explained to you upon your arrival._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Head Mistress_

                He then took one other piece of parchment out of the envelope, one he had not shown Ron. His stomach was alive with nerves as he unfolded it and stared, not really reading:

_Mister Draco Malfoy shall be returning as well. It will be your job to look after him._

_We are counting on you._

He had tried to rationalize it, to try and think of a way out, but he couldn’t see any way to avoid it. He would have to go. And for whatever reason they had chosen to bring Malfoy back, he’d have to deal with that as well.

                He hadn’t been this nervous since the night he had died.

 -

                The next day, Harry was amongst the dwindling crowd of last minute shoppers, scrounging together the books and things that he needed and toying with the idea of buying an owl. He hated the idea of buying a new one, a sharp pain ripping through him as he thought of Hedwig, but he knew he needed something reliable to communicate with Ron, Hermione, and the Order. And, on top of that, he apparently needed to get new, house-unspecific robes. Why, he didn’t know, but he had a few guesses and he wasn’t overly thrilled about any of them.

                Deciding to save that for last, he made his way to miscellaneous shops, trying and failing to go unnoticed. It seemed as if every few seconds he was shaking someone’s hand, being bombarded with hugs or even, on several occasions, being bowed to. It was so different from what he had encountered over the years, but reminded him most closely of when he had come into the wizarding world for the first time.

                “Harry! What _are_ you doing here?”

                Harry turned to see Mrs. Weasley and Ginny exiting Flourish and Blots, their arms full of bags and confused smiles on their faces.

                _Damn,_ he thought, dread washing through him. He had really hoped to get this done alone, and quickly. And he definitely hadn’t counted on seeing Ginny.

               After The War, the two had briefly dated again then separated on mutual terms. Ginny was going to school after all, and Harry planned to train for a position as an Auror. Their lives were so different that it didn’t honestly make sense for them to be together. They had promised to see where they were at later on, perhaps after a year or so, but Ginny had immediately began dating some Ravenclaw boy, and that was that for Harry. Not because he felt betrayed or anything like that, but because it had confirmed what he had suspected all along: That neither of them were very invested in the relationship to begin with.

                It was funny how things work out sometimes.

                “Just, you know, shopping. For uum… for school,” he replied, staring at his feet. He heard Ginny gasp but refused to look. He could guess what was going through her mind and he didn’t want to confirm it.

                “ _School?_ My goodness Harry, why are you going back to school? You’re eighteen for Merlin’s sake!” Mrs. Weasley cried, making Harry laugh.

                “That’s exactly what Ron said. I got a letter yesterday, apparently McGonagall and Kingsley decided it would be for the best, and I can’t think of any good reason to tell them no. My classes are sort of odd though, I don’t recognize any of the teacher’s and the books are somewhat strange…” He trailed off, unsure what to say. He knew so little of what was going on that he couldn’t even discuss it with others without feeling like he was lying.

                Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Well, I suppose they do know what they’re doing. I do wish that they had asked Ronald, now that I think about it. Merlin knows what he actually learned in his six years, and another wouldn’t have killed him. Oh, well, “she sighed, smiling, “I can’t much complain, can I? He is getting married, and getting along well on his Auror training. I couldn’t have asked for more.”

                Harry grinned, as he always did when he thought of his two friend’s engagement. After the wreckage and turmoil of the War, it had been the start of everyone’s healing, and the very first good thing to happen in quite a while.

                Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that Ginny was staring intently at him, her expression unreadable. Feeling suddenly nervous, he glanced at his watch and let out a low whistle. “I’ve got to get going, sorry. Lots of shopping left to do.”

                “Oh, yes! Don’t let us stop you! We’ll see you for dinner, perhaps? Maybe next Friday? We can try and get Hermione to stop all the planning for an evening and make a party of it.”

                “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mrs. Weasley. I’ll see you both then.”

                Waving, he watched as the two women consulted a piece of parchment then walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

                Looking at his own list, Harry realized all he had left to buy was his robes and, perhaps, an owl. Deciding to take care of his robes first, he walked towards Madam Malkin’s Robe shop. Upon entering, a young woman with a pin cushion in her hat and measuring tape floating along behind her clasped her hands to her mouth, stifling a cry.

                “Oh my! Harry Potter! I never thought I would get to meet you, and now I am, and… and… oh my! Oh my!”

                “Oh, you shush Penelope! You can’t do this every time someone famous walks through the door, it’ll lose us business!” Madam Malkin called from the back, irritation clear in her voice. “Why don’t you wait just a moment, and I’ll be right with you, Mr. Potter,” she cooed at Harry, the change in her tone so drastic that it was all he could do not to laugh.

                Abashed, Penelope bowed slightly and disappeared through an office door, her face a bright shade of red. Chuckling, Harry made himself comfortable in a plush purple chair until Madam Malkin appeared, looking cheery as always. “Why don’t you follow me this way, and we can get you what you need, yes?”

                “Alright.”

                “ I _must_ apologize. Penelope is new, and it seems like every time anyone walks through the door she gets all worked up! Quite embarrassing, you know, but she is young and learning. Now,”she paused, stopping in front of the lone stool in the room and a three way mirror, “what can I do for you today?”

                “Well, it’s kind of odd, but I need school robes. But without any color, just black, like first years get.”

                “Starting over from scratch, I see. Very interesting. Now let me just…”

                A bell over the door rang, and they could hear someone in the front of the shop.

                “Oh my, another last minute customer.  Just one moment, I’ll be back in a jiff.”

                As her hurried footsteps faded away Harry decided to keep himself busy by looking around the vibrant shop, which seemed to be filled with life even when he was the only person in the room. Fabric drifted lazily from place to place, folding themselves and slipping back into their original spots while spools of thread and ribbon rewound themselves and rearranged into color order. The shop was really quite beautiful, with fabric of every color and variety all over the place, making him feel as if he was inside of a kaleidoscope. Large windows and mirrors were scattered around, shining light and making the colors pop and in some cases even glimmer. It was quite peaceful.

                Footsteps announced her return, as well as the arrival of another customer. Before he got a chance to see who it was, the two had rounded a corner and were out of sight. Muffled conversation met his ears, then Madam Malkin reappeared, smiling. “Well! Why don’t you follow me, Mr. Potter, and I will take care of the two of you together. What a happy coincidence that two people with the same request would come at the same time!”

                His heart dropping, Harry followed her into a room with two stools rather than one, and six mirrors. One of the stools was occupied by a man with silver-blonde hair and pale skin, who was making a point of not looking at Harry.

                “Now, if I remember correctly, didn’t this happen the first time the both of you got your school robes? It’s like a mini reunion! Mr. Potter, you stand on that stool there, and I’ll take your measurements.”

                With a snap of her fingers, two measuring tapes sprang to life and went to work measuring the two boys, then floated over to her and draped themselves around her neck like a scarf. “Give me a moment and I’ll cut the fabric, get it sewn up nicely, and you can be on your way! Now, where _did_ I put my scissors…”

                The two stood in silence, finally making eye contact after a few moments.

                “So, you too?”

                “Obviously,” Draco replied, crossing his arms. Harry could sense that there was something off, but couldn’t quite place it.

                “What do you think of the professors we got? Nobody I recognize, you?”

                “… No. Though I wouldn’t expect to. They are seventh year professors, so probably some we haven’t had before. Plus…”

                He trailed off, both knowing the real reason. So many had died in the War that it was unsurprising that there would be a change in staff.

                “Wouldn’t you recognize them though? You did go last year.”

                Draco scowled. “As if. They replaced half the teachers with Death Eaters. Besides, it wasn’t as if I went to class anyways.”

               From his tone, Harry knew that the conversation was over. He wondered how they would make it through the year, but he decided not to let it bother him too much, at least for the time being. Instead, he occupied himself by continuing to look around the kaleidoscopic room. He noticed things which he hadn’t before, such as the small, glimmering needles whizzing through the air, and the fabric being cut by self-wielding scissors, which then sent itself flowing out of sight, towards waiting hands. He thought how amazing it was that Madam Malkin was able to create such a dynamic, tranquil environment with nothing more than some needles, thread, and a bit of magic. _How boring it must be for Muggle seamstresses,_ he thought to himself.

                He glanced in the mirror and was startled to see Draco watching him intently, his grey eyes locked on Harry’s reflection.

                “Er… Is something wrong,” Harry asked, immediately self-conscious.

                “I was just thinking that you seem to be exactly the same. I’d have thought that you’d be different, but you still act like a kid. Like you did seven years ago. You’re looking around here as if you’d never seen magic before, even though you’ve been around it for so long. It’s just odd, I suppose. You’d think that someone who had been through so much would, I don’t know, act like an adult.”

                  “That’s because it is still new to me. I didn’t grow up with it, there’s a ton that I haven’t seen. Probably that I will never see. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me being amazed by it all.” Harry replied, a slight edge in his voice. He was beginning to wonder if he did need to be worried about this year. Clearly, despite everything that had happened, Malfoy hadn’t changed one bit.

                To Harry’s surprise, rather than responding Malfoy simply nodded, then fixed his eyes on the floor, his curious expression replaced with the dull, blank one which seemed to have replaced his usual arrogant smirk.

                “Alright, boys! Why don’t you try these robes out, tell me how they fit, if they need any changes,” Madam Malkin chirped, entering the room followed by two stacks of robes hovering in the air behind her. “Now, I did make one small change to your orders, as a little surprise. Let me know what you think.”

                Curious, Harry slipped the robe on. As always, it fit like a glove, and needed no alterations. Whether it was because of magic or Malkin’s skill alone, her robes were always flawlessly made, which was why she was always the first one people went to when it came to purchasing them. Immediately he noticed a small, embroidered Gryffindor house crest on the left sleeve, right above the hem.

                “You see, I knew I had to place them somewhere inconspicuous, but I wanted to give you both a bit of identity; something to remind you where you come from. Do you like it?” she asked with a conspiratorial wink.

                “Oh, this is won-“

              “Remove it,” Draco interrupted, his face paler than usual. “Thank you, it was very thoughtful, but please take it off.”

                “But…”

                “Don’t make me ask again. Please.”

                Madam Malkin and Harry glanced at each other uneasily before she walked towards him and tapped the Slytherin crest with her wand, making the string unwind itself from the sleeve.

                “I am very sorry to have upset you.”

                There was no response, as again Draco was staring blankly at the floor.

                “Well, I’ll keep mine. Thank you, it was lovely of you to do that for us,” Harry said, putting a slight emphasis on _us_ in the hopes that it would give Malfoy the hint that he was being unbearably rude.

                “Oh, of course, my dear,” Malkin smiled, “I’m glad I could do something to help you; Lord knows you’ve done more than enough for all of us. Well, if that’s it then I suppose you two should be on your way. I’m sure you have plenty more shopping to do and the day isn’t getting any younger.”

                “How much will it be for the robes, then?” Harry asked, reaching into his pocket.

                “Oh, no, don’t you worry about that. Take it as a gift, both of you. I insist. Now get going, I won’t hear any arguments!”

                On his way out, Harry found Penelope and handed her a bag with enough money to cover both sets of robes. “Would you mind giving this to Madam Malkin for me? It’s for my robes.”

                “Oh, well, didn’t your friend pay for you both already? That blonde boy?    

                “Malfoy?”

                “If that’s his name, then yes. He told me that he owed you and paid for both, though from the weight of the bag I’d say he overpaid by quite a lot, between you and me!”

                Harry sighed, feeling a strange tiredness creep over him. Already he could tell that this was going to be a very, very long year. “Well, take this too then. I had meant to pay for both of our robes as well. Tell Madam Malkin that I am extremely grateful for her thoughtful gift, but I could never accept so much without some kind of payment. And thank you too, Penelope.”

                “Oh! Of- of course! Anything, Mr, Potter!” she squeaked, flushing a brilliant red. Laughing quietly to himself, Harry left the shop, startled to find that dusk had already taken hold of the sky, and that the street lamps had already been lit. _I haven’t much time, if I want to find an owl. I’d better hurry._

                He was walking briskly down the street when he remembered a short cut that Fred and George had shown him his second year of school, when he’d gone shopping with the Weasley family. Ducking into an alley way to his right, he felt a slight thrill at the prospect of going back to school. There were so many things he hadn’t realized he missed, even as simple as taking a mostly unknown shortcut to get places. _Although, most of them are more than likely destroyed. I wonder if any will even be left, or at least safely usable._  He rounded the corner and found himself across from Eyelops Owl Emporium, the same place where Hagrid had bought Hedwig for his birthday what seemed like a lifetime ago. Inside he could see owls of every size and color sitting in large cages. Immediately his attention was caught by a snowy owl near the front of the shop, who looked so much like Hedwig that Harry was momentarily taken aback. As if she felt his eyes on her she swiveled her head so that they were staring at each other, her luminous eyes locked onto Harry’s, which were growing glassier with every second until finally the tears spilled over and streaked down his cheeks.

                “That owl looks quite a lot like yours, wouldn’t you say?”

                Harry snapped his head to the side, embarrassed to have been caught at such an emotional moment, but also angry at having been snuck up on. “I ‘spose.”

                Draco cocked an eyebrow at the sight of Harry’s tear stained face, a slight smirk playing along his lips. “What? Are you upset that you don’t have the fairest owl in the land? Is she really such a point of pride for you?”

                “I don’t have an owl anymore, you prick. You’re Death Eater friends made sure of that when they were trying to murder me last year.”

                Draco’s eyes widened and his face grew incredibly pale. Immediately, Harry regretted what he had said. Not only because it wasn’t necessarily called for, but also because he was fairly certain he had just made his year that much more difficult. He braced himself for the curse that was sure to be the other man’s response, but it didn’t come. Instead, Draco shrank back into himself and stumbled back against the stone wall behind him. “I’m… I didn’t… I’m sorry…”

                “What?”

                “I’m sorry about your owl. I didn’t know.”

                “Well… I suppose you couldn’t have. I’m sorry for saying that, I just-“

                “Don’t apologize,” Draco interrupted, raising his grey eyes to Harry’s green ones. “You have every right to be angry, especially at me. I was a part of all that. I did irreversible things. I hurt a lot of people. It’s my fault… all of it. Our sixth year…”

                “Yeah, you did a lot of horrible things. You got a lot of people killed. I don’t know if you can ever really make up for it all, either, unless you start changing yourself now. Like that stunt you pulled in Malkin’s, about the house crest. You made yourself look like a complete jack ass, you know. If you keep doing that stuff nobody will ever forgive you.”

                Draco looked as if he had been slapped, and somehow his face grew paler. “Yeah… you’re right. Sorry.” He turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness of the night, leaving Harry behind in a state of bewilderment. What was going on with him, he wondered. There were moments where the Malfoy he knew was there, baiting him into a fight, but there was also this sad, cowardly Malfoy who seemed as fragile as a flower, with no backbone and no fight in him. In the back of his mind he knew what he needed to do, but his pride wouldn’t let him do it. Instead he turned away, leaving buying an owl for another day, and went back down the alley way from which he had come.

 -

                A week later Harry found himself in a mostly empty house. After he went to the Weasley’s for dinner he would come back to Grimmauld place for the night then go straight to King’s Cross in the morning.

                “Sorry, looks like you’ll be empty for a while again. I’ll come visit,” he said quietly, patting the couches arm consolingly. Suddenly, there was a tapping noise coming from the window. He threw it open and an owl swooped in, a letter clenched in its talons. “Thank you,” he said as he retrieved the letter. “Oh, wait one moment!” He dug through the trunk he had packed for school and found a small container of owl treats. He tossed one to the owl who plucked it out of the air and settled itself on the window sill and tucked its head under its wing, promptly falling asleep. “You must have had a long journey,” he smiled, patting the owl once on the head before opening the envelope and finding another letter from McGonagall.

_Mr. Potter,_

_It is with great pride that I am writing you this letter. As the Headmistress of Hogwarts, I would formally like to invite you to take a place amongst the teachers at our fine school and put your experience with the D.A. to good use to teach a highly specialized class called “Practical Magic”, focusing on spells which are necessary to know from day to day. This will combine Transfiguration, Defense against the Dark Arts, and Charms type lessons, as well as anything else that you find to be important and appropriate._

_Your schedule will be rearranged accordingly._

_I am sorry to give you such short notice; however I do need you to send your response immediately. Feel free to use the owl who delivered this letter._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonogall_

_Headmistress_

                Harry deliberated only momentarily; he knew that being asked was truly just a formality. He retrieved a piece of parchment from his desk and quickly scribbled his response, trying to ignore the way that his hand was shaking.

Whether it was from nerves or excitement he was not entirely certain.

                As he tied the rolled up parchment around the sleepy barn owl’s foot he wondered what the next year held for him, and how his life would, for the eighth time, change when he set foot at Hogwarts.

 - 

                “Harry!” Mrs. Weasley cried, pulling him into her arms with a tight hug. “You’re late, you know. You had me worried half to death! I thought maybe my clock was acting up again,” she admonished, waving a finger at him. “Now hurry and sit down, what are you doing standing there? The food is only going to get colder! And heaven knows you need it, you look skinnier every time I see you!”

                “Yeah Harry, we’re positively starving over here,” George called from his spot at the table, Ginny sitting to his left and his arm slung over a chair to his right, the one that they always left empty, the chair that used to be Fred’s. Harry looked away, a nervous smile pulling at his mouth. This was one of the few times he had seen George since Fred’s funeral, and he never truly knew how to act. He had lost people, but not the way George had. It had taken months for George to speak in full sentences without trailing off, waiting for Fred to finish them, or to tell a joke without tearing up.

                “Harry, come sit down! I have ever so much to talk to you about,” Hermione called, motioning for him to take the chair to her left, directly across from Mr. Weasley. Harry grinned and made his way over, nodding to Ginny and giving Mr. Weasley a quick hug over the table.

                “How have you been, Harry?” Mr. Weasley asked enthusiastically, adjusting the glasses that were slipping down his nose. “I hear you’re going back to Hogwarts this year? How very interesting!”

                Harry nodded, the subject bringing back his nervousness. “Yes, I am. Actually, I got a letter from McGonogall-“

                “ _Headmistress_ McGonogall, Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley interrupted, raising her eyebrows.

                “Er, yes, Headmistress Mcgonogall, and she asked me, well… She asked me to teach.”

                A silence fell over the table as everyone’s jaws dropped, their eyes wide open. Hermione was the first to break it, her eyebrows knitted together in concern.

                “But _Harry,_ you never even finished your last year! You’re hardly qualified-“

                “You, a teacher? You never even did your homework properly!” Ron interrupted.

                “Oh, Harry dear, are you sure you can handle that?” Mrs. Weasley asked.  “Not that you can’t do anything you set your mind to, of course-“

                “That’s bloody brilliant! You can assign the most horrendous homework and drive all the first years mad,” George laughed, almost falling out of his seat in his excitement, only being saved by leaning against Ginny who seemed to have been stunned into silence.

                “Now, now, I’m sure Harry will do _just_ fine. I’m positive that Headmistress McGonogall knew exactly what she was doing when she asked him to take up the position,”Mr. Weasley said, giving Harry a supportive clap on the shoulder and shooting everyone else reproving looks . “What is it that you will be teaching, then?”

                “She said ‘Practical Magic’, stuff that they actually will need to use day to day. I guess because of the D.A., she thought it would be a good idea,” Harry replied, glad that at least someone didn’t think it was completely laughable for him to teach. “She didn’t give me many details though, she said that when I get to Hogwarts she will tell me more about it.”

                “Practical Magic, eh? I like the sound of that!” Mr. Weasley nodded approvingly as he helped himself to a large serving of mashed potatoes.

                “I do too, actually,” Hermione smiled sheepishly, her cheeks stained a bright pink. Clearly, she felt bad for her original outburst. Harry smiled back, silently forgiving her. It wasn’t like the same thoughts hadn’t gone through his own mind. “Obviously everything we learn is important, but it’s easy to forget all of the spells that are a bit more useful when we are also focusing on the difficult, more specialized ones. Perhaps everything that happened made them realize that a lot of students aren’t quite as prepared when they graduate, for life outside of Hogwarts that is.”

                Ron nodded in agreement, his cheeks stuffed with roasted pork. “Thash two,Hewmynee. Yoo make goof poinsh.”

                Hermione and Mrs. Weasley rolled their eyes almost simultaneously, similar looks of irritation on their faces. “Ronald, if you do that at our wedding I’ll walk away right then, I swear it.”

                Ron sputtered and choked in surprise and Harry slapped him on the back, laughing along with everyone else.

                “You’d better watch out, baby brother. You know our sweet Hermione is always one to keep her word,” George grinned wickedly.

                “Shut up,” Ron mumbled, although he couldn’t quite keep from smiling.

                “That reminds me, what did you want to talk to me about?” Harry asked Hermione, knowing that it would be about the upcoming engagement.

                “Oh! Oh my goodness, in all the excitement, I almost forgot! Well, you see, we were talking about flowers and Ron and I simply can’t agree on whether to go with red roses or white roses for the centerpieces and since _you_ are the best man, and I can’t ask Luna because she’ll just tell me about some type of invisible _pixie_ that lives in roses and eats people’s _brains_ , we decided you have to be the tie breaker,” Hermione said, moving her plate to the side and pulling out her ever present wedding planning binder.

                Simply calling it a binder was, of course, an understatement as it was a binder that held the contents of a hundred binders thanks to an enchantment Hermione had placed on it, similar to the one she had used on her bag, to give it infinite pages but not grow any wider. Hermione flipped it open to page three hundred and nineteen and held it up, showing meticulously detailed pictures of how the centerpieces would look depending on the color of the roses.

                “Er… Red?” Harry said tentatively, knowing he had given the wrong answer as soon as Hermione sighed in frustration.

 

                “You boys! If we do red we have to change the color of the napkins and the place settings and-“

                “Ok, no, actually, white. Yes, definitely white. I don’t know what I was thinking to say red,” Harry interrupted frantically, seeing the panic in Ron’s eyes.

                “Harry, you already _said_ that red would be best, you can’t change your answer. It’s fine, we’ll just change everything. All of it. We have time,” Hermione cried, flipping to a different page and taking out a quill to frantically cross something out and write something else down.

                _Sorry_ , Harry mouthed at Ron, who looked as if Harry had just given him a death sentence.

                The rest of dinner passed pleasantly, everyone catching up and debating exactly what Harry’s job would be, with Hermione occasionally interrupting to ask everyone’s opinions on different aspects of the wedding. By the end everyone was full from Mrs. Weasley’s delicious cooking (living alone, Harry had almost forgotten what a home cooked meal tasted like) and talking as if it hadn’t been months since they had all been together like this. In moments like these, it was almost easy to pretend like the last year had never happened, to pretend like they were all whole and well. Harry didn’t realize how much he had missed this.

                Once he had finished helping clear the table he went upstairs to Teddy’s room, where the toddler was fast asleep. Harry leaned against the side of his crib and smiled down at him, holding in a laugh at the way that his hair was stuck somewhere between yellow and grey and that his ears were several sizes too large for his body (clearly, he had a long way to go before he would have control over his gift the way that his mother had). The thought of Tonks and her husband Remus made Harry’s stomach sink. Their deaths had been so, so wrong. And not only that, their newborn son had been left parentless, with a godfather incapable of taking care of him the way he needed. He was endlessly thankful that the Weasley’s had offered to raise him for as long as necessary, especially since he was now going back to school.

                When he looked at Teddy, he couldn’t help but see himself, but with a brighter future and a better childhood. Yes, he had lost his family but he would grow up loved.

                Fighting back tears, Harry leaned down and kissed his godson’s forehead, wondering when he would get to see him again. He pulled up the soft red blanket to cover his shoulders and tucked the small stuffed wolf into his arms, careful not to wake him. With one last, lingering look over his shoulder he closed the door and made his way downstairs, suddenly exhausted.

                Before he left, he made sure to hug everyone extra hard, and to give Mrs. Weasley a kiss on the cheek, because he knew if it wasn’t for them he might still be in that cupboard under his Aunt and Uncle’s stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated every Tuesday!


End file.
